A True Rebel's Death
by Miss.Kick.Ass
Summary: Harry Potter has lost the war. His friends are dead and he has nothing to live for anymore. Will he join Voldemort or will he die?


They are all dead. Slaughtered right in front of his eyes. All nine Weasley's lay face up staring at Harry, but no life shown in their eyes. All Harry could do was watch them beg for mercy for Voldemort's enjoyment. When Voldemort got mad at his play toys, he tortured them until they were inches away from death then simply killed them or feed them to the werewolves. He got joy out of Harry's pain. He like to rub it in, tell Harry that it was his fault his friends were dead.

Voldemort stood an inch away from Harry's face. Harry, bound by invisible rope, could do nothing more except stare at the heartless red pupils of the cruel man.

"Their dead, Harry Potter. Just like your parents and your Godfather, they died for you." Harry looked away. He didn't want to believe what Voldemort was saying, but months and months of being tortured and taunted by Death Eaters had warn him down. Voldemort roughly grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look up. "Are you proud of your handy work, Mr. Potter?"

Harry did not answer the question. He had not spoken in so long that he thought he had gone mute. Voldemort smirked.

"You would make a fine Death Eater, Harry. Better than any I've ever seen. I've won the war. It is my world now. End your suffering and join me. Snape is dead now, you can fill his place."

Harry thought about the proposition for a moment. End his suffering? Would it end his suffering? He thought about his parents, Sirius, and the nine Weasleys that lay in front of him. Anger and shame flooded into his eyes.

"I would rather die than join you." He croaked and spat a wad of saliva in Voldemort's face. The man stared at him, calm as ever.

"Pity." He wiped off the spit. "A real shame, I guess my pet needs to be taught a lesson. Crucio!"

Pain took over all other emotions. Harry yelled out in agony. He could do nothing more but yell. The pain had paralyzed all his senses and movements. When the curse was lifted, Harry lay on the floor with the dead bodies. He dare not open his eyes. A shrill, high-pitched laugh came from Voldemort. He picked Harry up by the hair and tossed him into the wall. The force of the toss was enough to knock the wind out of Harry and he passed out temporally.

Harry woke up in the dungeon. The full moon shown through a little slit. Harry stared at it, feeling numb and dead. What did he have to live for now? The drive to live had died along with the Weasleys. He wanted nothing more than to die as well. He welcomed death, but he knew it would not come to him. Voldemort, no matter how much he tortured Harry, could not kill Harry. He needed Harry. Harry was a part of Voldemort's soul. A grave mistake on the Dark Lords part.

_Hiss. Hiss. Hiss._

Harry turned his head to meet the eyes of Nagini.

"Leave me alone." He hissed in Parseltongue. She did not move.

"You pathetic little child. Wallowing in self-pity." She hissed back at him.

"Go away." He hissed at her, anger filled his voice.

"Or what? You can't kill me. You don't have anything." She was right. He had nothing and lost everything.

"Bite me."

"And why would I do that? Your pain is deliciousssssss."

"Bite me." Harry repeated. Nagini gave a high-pitched laugh, equal to her master's laugh. It made Harry cringe.

"So long, Harry Potter." She laughed and slithered away, leaving Harry to his misery and solitude.

He wanted to die, to be reunited with the ones he had lost. The pain of loss was weighing do on his heart. He did not know how look he could stay sane. Harry curled into a ball and rested on the stone floors.

The morning came and Harry refused to eat. Weeks passed and he still hadn't eaten. When he felt like the was on the brink of death Voldemort came to the dungeon.

His appearance had sent a cold wave over the dungeon.

"Potter," He said calmly, "I will give you one last choice. Join me or perish."

"Then death it is." Harry said proudly. Nothing could end Harry's rebelliousness and stubbornness, not even death.

"So be it."


End file.
